


An Orange for Christmas

by DarkInuFan



Series: Family doesn't mean blood [2]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Adoption, Family, Feels, Gen, foreign culture, yeti culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 17:37:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1613600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkInuFan/pseuds/DarkInuFan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An orange in the bottom of the Christmas stocking is a treat, meant to be savored. In popular culture, the orange represents a ball of gold that St. Nickolas gave a girl to pay for her dowry.</p><p>Oranges have always been Jack's favorite food, ever since Phil gave him that first one many, many years ago. Over time, Phil has taken care of Jack in the little ways that he could, even if it was just a treat or keeping an eye out for the boy. If he could have, Phil would have brought Jack in from the cold the first time that he tried to break in. Now, with joining the guardians, Phil can finally give Jack something that they have both wanted for a long time: a home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a little knife

Closing the door behind him, Jack slumped against it briefly before moving across the room to his wardrobe. His. Nobody else’s. Filled with clothes and trinkets that North had given him, alongside odds and ends that he had gathered the past few years. The room itself was more than he had ever expected or hoped for. It was huge, with its own glass dome roof and fireplace in one corner. North had told him that it was the old observatory, before the workshop had expanded once again to accommodate the amount of room needed to make toys for the world’s children.

Just too tired to travel after North’s Christmas celebration, Jack finally took up the offer to stay the night. So he wouldn’t feel alone, Bunnymund had taken up the offer as well, though Tooth and Sandy declined, citing that they had spent enough time away from work as is. Even if none of the others had left yet, Jack left the elder four to talk amongst themselves. He knew it was a hobby of theirs, to talk about him just as much as they talked to him. While it usually irked him, there was only so much he could do about it, as long as nobody was getting hurt.

Rifling through the wardrobe, Jack finally settled on the least outrageously patterned pajama pants and quickly shed his stuffy ‘winter shepherd’ uniform. He didn’t care about the trousers and vest getting wrinkled as he tossed them to the floor. If he asked nicely, it was more than likely he could get one of the yeti down in fabrics to give the outfit a quick wrinkle-release steam bath.

Nearly tripping, Jack shoved his legs into dark blue pants with yellow stars printed all over it. The material felt silky to the touch, but the inside felt more like cotton. They were light enough that he wouldn’t overheat, but the hems were slightly too long for his taste.

Deeming hunting for a top to at least somewhat-match the pants too much effort, Jack half-floated, half stumbled to the alcove that held his ‘floating’ bed. The bed itself was a gift from all the guardians working together, apparently. It was a two-meter wide shallow basket, woven like a nest, with ropes and wicker bleached white and hung from a trio of thicker ropes. The ‘mattress’ was a giant pillow that lined the entire basket, with an entire platoon of various sized and colored pillows and blankets artfully arranged on top. It was the result of a series of unfortunate conversations that he and the guardians had had soon after the Pitch fiasco. While the alcove originally hosted a traditional four poster bed, Jack had explained that it just didn’t feel ‘right’. It had been both too exposed and too claustrophobic for his tastes. And after trying out several styles of bed, he discovered that he loved the feeling of a nest of some sort the best, where he could burrow or lay on top as the mood struck. The hanging ropes had been a stroke of insight from Sandy halfway through building their little project. In his years of observing the boy, it seemed like Jack ended up sleeping in elevated places more often than not, letting the sway of branches (or the occasional power line) lull him to sleep.

Landing face-down on his floating nest, Jack nearly smacked into a hardness that didn’t belong in his pile of softness. Letting out a noise that could only be a verbal question mark, Jack flailed his arm around until he found the hardness and pulled it closer to inspect. Without opening his eyes, he could feel a rougher material compared to his pillows, in an odd shape that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. And… was that a strap? A handle? Uh?

Finally opening his eyes, he realized that it was a backpack that he was groping around. “Oh. Phil.” He grunted, sitting up properly. The yeti had told him that he would bring up Jack’s gifts from the other yeti earlier, but he hadn’t expected Phil to leave them on his bed. Oh, well, the better to be found, he guessed. Turning on his bedside lamp, Jack hissed at the sudden light, as low as it actually was, trying to blink the spots away from his vision. Sometimes having superior night vision was a bad thing.

Groping his way around the bag, Jack finally found a zipper, opening the great beast of a backpack, which was packed full to capacity with various small items. The first thing he dug for, and the one thing that he was pretty much guaranteed ever since the first year that he had met the yeti while trying to sneak into the pole, was the orange. Humming in happiness, Jack finally pulled out the baggie, tucked safely in one of the small side pockets. One piece before bed wouldn’t hurt anything, Jack nodded to himself, opening the baggie and popping a piece into his mouth with a sinful noise.

These weren’t normal oranges, though Jack loved those just as much, but candied ones. Sometimes they were dipped in chocolate, but nothing beat the strips of orange peel, candied carefully and slowly to create the perfect texture between fruit leather and jelly. What was in the baggie equaled an entire orange, and most definitely wasn’t of the smaller variety, and he savored every. Single. Piece. Slowly sucking on the one piece he allowed himself, Jack carefully tucked the baggie away for safe keeping before exploring the rest of the bag.

There were the usual jars of preserves and various other provisions that he had come to expect in the main section, easily enough to last several months with his bird-like diet, though the others had been trying to get him to eat more for years now. A secondary pocket half as large as the main one held supplies for his first aid and sewing kits, as well as other smaller necessities not food-related. In the small side pockets were items that were purely gifts. A small sketchbook/notebook and pencils, a beautifully crafted bookmark. Some carved beads that felt like either horn or antler. A brightly painted leather rattle the size of his fist. A small bone dagger with writing on the side and finally a rolled up piece of bleached leather, wrapped in matching thick leather thongs.

Tilting his head to the side, Jack absently repacked the bag with his usual gifts, leaving his more… unique ones splayed out on the blanket. Looking at the leather rattle first, Jack gave a small smile as he twisted it between his fingers and it made a ‘tok-tok’ noise. It reminded him of the small traditional instruments that he’d seen practically everywhere. It was a small drum on a stick with two beads hanging off of the sides of the drum. The drum heads were painted with a variety of symbols, while the wooden handle and drum base were blue. He thought it was cute and several games immediately came to mind using the new toy.

Next, he picked up the dagger and inspected it closer. For a yeti-made weapon, it was truly tiny. The handle was barely big enough for his hand, with a flare at the end, cradling a polished blue and white stone. The bone the handle was made from was bleached snow-white and a blue cord matching the stone was wrapped around it for grip. The blade was only slightly longer than the handle, with a dramatic curve mid-way down that made it look like a claw. It wasn't a heavy-duty knife, but it would be good for cutting plants and a last-resort defensive weapon. With a sigh, Jack absently twirled the knife in his hands. This wasn't the first time that the yeti had given him a weapon, and like he would with this one, he usually gave them back to Phil with the gentle reminder that his staff was more than enough. Then again, most of those weapons had been yeti-sized and unwieldy with his smaller frame. “Oh-ho, what's this?” He stopped flipping the blade and actually looked at the side. He was still learning to read the yeti language, but he could still recognize one or two runes, including the ones that formed his name.

Sucking on his teeth, Jack sighed. There was no giving back this knife, it had his name on it. “You win this round. Congrats.” Just because he would keep it, didn't mean he would keep it on him. Tossing it onto his side table, he turned to the handful of beads. Now _these_ were interesting.

The handful of beads varied in size, from the size of a large grape to about the size of a currant. He had seen similar beads braided into yeti fur on special occasions, like the two weeks that the Claussen Yeti had vacation, or a holiday. The Himalayan yeti actually wore beads and hip aprons year around, but it was impractical for a workshop environment. Grinning, Jack inspected a grape-sized bead with curling lines carved into it and dyed blue-black. Phil had been wearing a matching pair of similar beads at the ends of his mustache. For a yeti, Phil was extremely conservative, even when dressing up. Jack had seen (and helped) several yeti, especially the younger, unmated ones, sport a whole variety of beads in hopes to attract attention.

Absently fingering his hair, Jack mused on some of the smaller beads. A change in hair style might be called for, especially since there was one that looked like it was made of cracked glass with a blue tint that only shone in the correct light. It really was only a matter of thought, but he was too tired to do anything with magic at the moment. He had sported the same hair style since he had come up from the ice. While it was never a terribly bad cut, it was boring. He wondered if North had ever been gifted any beads from the Yeti. If he had, it would be a matter of asking to get the older guardian to wear some. Slipping the beads into a corner of his drawer, Jack resolved to hunt down a ribbon or something to keep the rest of the beads safe in the morning.

Finally turning to the roll of leather, Jack carefully unwound the leather thongs, finding that they were attached to the rest of the roll. The leather itself was butter-soft and bleached to an off-white that just seemed to fit. He didn't know why, but he held the leather, keeping it rolled up, apprehensive to look at what the item actually was. He knew the yeti, they would never make a sub-par gift, but that's wasn't what he was afraid of. He had the feeling that whatever this was, it was important. It was strange enough that he had gifts that were strictly yeti-made for other yeti and not just the human-focused gifts that he usually got. A pen or a new book was something that he was expecting. Sometimes a knife, but that almost always was from Phil or his mate. The drum and beads, yes, he had touched similar items before, but only because a yeti youth had given them to him to hold. It was so strange to actually own something similar now. Taking a breath, Jack carefully unrolled the leather.

Gasping, it only took him a moment to realize what he was holding. The drum, the beads, the knife... the stuffed yeti toy from North, and now this. Running his hands over the delicate embroidery, Jack could feel the ice forming as tears slid down his cheeks, creating a shimmering path. A giant hexagon in blue was the center piece, framed in a square with small pictures around the border. While most of the picture squares were still bare, he could recognize a wolf's head in one, then a series of Norse runes, a snowflake, matryoshka doll, Easter egg, a bird feather and, in one corner, what Jack recognized as Phil's clan symbol. Jack could feel his throat closing up as he looked at the brand new apron. As far as he knew, not even North had been given an apron. This was more than a simple gift. This was, this was...

Jack choked, curling up on himself, clutching the apron to his heart. It didn't matter that he was squishing the leather and that frozen tears were dropping in among his pillows and yeti-fur blankets. This was more than becoming a guardian and earning a meaning to his long existence. This was... this was family. A home, people that wanted him. This was...

Permanent.

Sure, with joining the Guardians, Jack was now welcomed into a circle that very few were included in, but even after half a decade, Jack still didn't quite know where he stood with the others. He joked and fought with Bunny, traded stories with Sandy, played games with Tooth and Baby and helped North around the Workshop, but it was strained. The others felt so comfortable around each other, had stories and jokes that they would fall into at the drop of a hat. They had a _history_ together.

And then the Man in the Moon, without saying anything to Jack, told them to include him as well. Where was that three hundred years ago, or even a hundred years ago? Jack still felt as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the Guardians to tell him to get lost, that he was only needed to defeat Pitch. He knew that they were trying, that he was trying, but it was hard to ignore three hundred years of being ignored at best, attacked for ruining a holiday as worst.

The yeti though, for as long as Jack had attempted to enter Santoff Claussen, he had known the yeti. Sure, the first attempts were a bit shaky, what with being thrown out of whatever window or door was closest about a hundred times, but that was the past. He had found the yeti village below the Workshop and discovered that while sneaking into the Workshop got him chucked out a window, he was more tolerated in the village proper. And the Yeti pups could see him! Jack grinned at the memory of the first time that he had pelted a yeti youth in the back of the head, only to have a larger, and more compact, snowball thrown right back!

Later, he would come to find out that the youth that he had pelted was the only pup of the yeti that seemed to catch and kick him out of the Workshop the most often. He and Tanner (as Jack called him, unable to pronounce the pup's yetish name at the time) had become fast friends. Soon enough, he had been invited into Phil and Sarah's home and just... never really left. That had been over two and a half centuries ago.

* * *

 Knocking gently on the boy's door, Sandy listened for a moment, not hearing a response. Jack wasn't asleep, or he wouldn’t have bothered knocking, but he wasn't awake enough to respond. The door barely creaked when Sandy pushed it open, just enough to peek in. Looking in, he spotted Jack, shirtless and already in bed, so he smiled. Looking closer, he realized that something was wrong. It wasn't the steady breathing of peace, but the shaking shoulders of something having gone wrong. '!?' Sandy floated into Jack's room, quietly closing the door behind himself. 'Snowflake?' he signed, though Jack couldn't see from where he was curled up, his arms wrapped around his stomach and head nearly touching his knees. Holding his hand up, Sandy wasn't quite sure whether to touch Jack to try to snap him out of whatever he was reacting to or...

What was this? A scrap of leather peeked out from between Jack's arms. Finally making up his mind, Sandy took the exposed corner and tugged gently, getting Jack's attention.

“Hm? Oh,” Jack turned to the tugging and gave a watery smile, alarming Sandy even more. “Hey Sandy. Getting ready to go?” Jack uncurled, absently wiping the tears from his face.

Sandy nodded, signing that he wanted to check in on Jack first. 'Teardrop? Zzz?'

“Its nothing, Sandy. I guess I'm more tired than I thought.” Sandy nodded, but tugged on the white piece of leather that Jack was absently petting. “Phil gave-” Jack shook his head and started again. “Phil dropped off the presents from the other yeti and this was one of them.” Jack explained, spreading the apron out on the pillow for the elder guardian to look at.

'!' Sandy's eyes went wide, knowing exactly what this apron was. 'snowflake, yeti, party hat, snowflake, house?'

Shrugging, Jack rolled the apron up properly, making sure that the leather thongs didn't get twisted as he wrapped them around the apron. “I... don't know.”

'Snowflake, smiley face, house, yeti?' Jack gave a small smile, but didn't say anything. He didn't have to for Sandy to understand. 'Smiley face, teardrop.' Jack nodded and Sandy smiled back. Holding up a ball of dreamsand in question, Jack finally settled down, curling up in the nest and pulling one of the blankets over his hip. Unexpectedly, Jack then pulled Sandy closer like an overstuffed teddy bear and closed his eyes.

“Thank you.” With a sweet smile, Sandy ran his fingers through Jack's hair, casting his dreamsand to work on the young spirit. Immediately, the boy fell asleep, his arms falling lax around Sandy's waist. For a moment, Sandy just sat there, watching Jack sleep and combing his frosted white hair.

Not even North had been given an apron in all the years that he had known the yeti. Not even from Yaloo when it seemed like the two were growing close. Aprons were... they were special. Yeti were very socially-oriented creatures, very much like humans, but had very little sense of individual ownership. Weapons, tools, and even most decorations like beads and leather bands belonged to the whole community. An apron, on the other hand, was a gift, and anything attached to said apron was sacred to the yeti it was gifted to. They, and a small knife, was usually given to a yeti youth when they started their journey to adulthood. As they aged, symbols representing accomplishments or events were added to tell a whole story. From the glance that he had seen, the apron had been started several years ago, even though it was just now given to Jack.

Carefully, Sandy wiggled out of Jack's grip and placed the apron roll on the side table. Ah, and there was the knife. Sandy smiled. On the side of it the word 'storm bringer' was written, how apropos. Floating the large bag that Sandy assumed was from Phil the yeti onto the floor, he placed it next to the side table and out of the way. Carefully untangling the blanket from under Jack, he tucked the boy in properly. More than likely he was going to throw it off in his sleep, but it was the thought that counted.

Looking around, Sandy grinned, spotting the small pile of gifts from the others. Pulling out the stuffed yeti, Sandy looked at it, and back to Jack before nodding. It made sense, really, now that he had more pieces of the puzzle. Likely the stuffed yeti had been made with Phil and his mate's fur and bleached to match Jack's hair better. If Jack were to ever be a yeti, he would look like this doll. If he remembered correctly, it was a common practice, just like human parents making a baby blanket, for an expecting yeti couple to make a soft toy out of their own fur to soothe the child when it was born. While Jack wasn't that young, it was the sentiment that counted. Tucking the stuffed yeti into Jack's arms, the boy smiled in his sleep, pulling the toy closer and burying his nose in it. If that wasn't the sweetest and most telling sight ever, Sandy would give all his eggnog to the elves for a year.

When Jack's dreams started, Sandy couldn't help but to smile. A snowball fight, of course. It looked very similar to the fight they had immediately after defeating Pitch, though there were more yeti than had been there originally. Jack wasn't a yeti himself, but it didn't seem to matter. The toy worked how it was supposed to anyway. Happy that his work was done here, he slipped out of Jack's skylight, leaving the window cracked just enough to make the boy comfortable.

What Sandy didn't see was the Jack in the dreams turn into the yeti that he was holding in his arms and hug dream Phil and his mate.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“What was that?” Aster asked himself, adjusting the bracer on his right arm absently, his ears twitching as they attempted to catch the sound. It was too early for North to be up, especially after his yearly walkabout the previous day. Straining his ears, he heard the susurrus of footsteps that were too light to be the yeti and too steady to be one of the elves.

Tooth? No, Aster shook his head. She had gone back to the Tooth Palace the previous night, right before Aster had retired for the night. Besides, why would she be walking around instead of flying?

Curious, he pressed his ear to the thick oak door, pinpointing which direction the footsteps were heading before opening the door to take a peek. Making sure that the steps were heading away, Aster cracked the door and looked around.

Blinking in surprise, Aster watched Jack walk down the hall, a nervous set to his back, staff nowhere to be found. Instead, Jack had what looked like a large scroll clutched in one hand. He had an unkempt appearance, like he had just rolled out of the nest, and started walking.

Which brought up the question, as Aster silently followed the sprite, did Jack sleepwalk? He had yet to see the boy actually sleep before, so it was a possibility. If nothing else, the old, stained shirt he wore would be good for little else.

If he was sleep walking, Jack's body knew exactly where it was going as they walked directly to the side door the yeti used instead of the main gate. The few yeti that Jack did encounter gave the boy a curious look and waved him by. If any words were exchanged, distance and general workshop noise (as little as there was, being the days between Christmas and New Years) swallowed it up.

The hard part now- Aster counted to fifteen before sneaking out the same gate- was not to be spotted against the stark background of the icy cliff side as he scanned his surroundings to find where the boy went.

Not in the air, he shook his head, belatedly remembering that Jack couldn't fly without his staff. On the ground, then. Aster scanned the surrounding drifts, quickly enough spotting the boy. He must have jumped some of the switchbacks, since he was already half a kilometer down the cliff side and almost to the yeti village.

Resigned that he (once again) forgot his great coat and determined to see this through, Aster mentally apologized to his frozen toes and took off. Cautious, he ducked behind every drift he could find, keeping one eye on the slick path, and the other on the ice spirit.

Quickly enough, Jack made it to the edge of the village, where he was greeted by at least a dozen half-grown kits that had no qualms about piling on the poor boy. Aster winced, hearing the dull whump as the entire group fell into a re-frozen snow bank. He had been tackled by an overenthusiastic kit like that once _once!_ and had ended up in traction for a week. At that age, the kits didn't know their own strength. And Jack had just been dog piled by a dozen of them.

Holding his breath, Aster pushed aside stealth and stood tall, ears erect, torn between just staying where he was or going to rescue the flattened guardian. At least, that was until Jack's distinctive laughter floated up the hill. Easily shoving the young yeti aside, Jack sat up, shaking snow from his hair.

“Bloody Hell,” Aster couldn't help but grin in relief, settling back onto his haunches, “Give a bloke a coronary, why don't you?” Eventually, one of the adults took mercy and pulled Jack the rest of the way out of the pile by his arm. At his distance, Jack looked like a spider monkey among the yeti, especiallyby clinging to the adult's arm to stay out of the kits' eager reach.

Carefully, the yeti who rescued Jack put the boy down, away from the roughhousing kits, and bushed the rest of the snow off before pointing in the direction of the center of the village. A large bonfire and trestle tables were set up for the holiday season, yeti coming and going, setting up for their own festivities. Nodding in thanks, Jack wandered in that general direction, talking a few words to whatever yeti decided to stop him.

Deciding that discretion was still the better plan, Aster stayed above the village to watch, instead of heading to the interior. The last thing he needed was for a yeti to spot him and alert Jack that he had been followed. Not after sneaking after the boy this far and freezing his tail to sate his curiosity. Finding a good spot to hide that had a good view of the pseudo village square, Aster settled in to wait.

It wasn't long until the yeti Aster had come to recognize as Phil came out of the woodwork to confront Jack. Standing tall, Jack held out the scroll for Phil to take. Phil shook his head, gently pushing the scroll back toward Jack. The boy nodded, twisting the item between his fists like he did his staff.

Quickly growing bored, Aster watched as they apparently talked. The boy's body language didn't give anything away, whether good or bad, and neither did the yeti. Then again, like their language of what seemed to be grunt-and-point, he never bothered to learn the nuances of their body language either. It seemed like forever after before either boy or beast moved, but when they did, it seemed like an entire flurry of activity sprung to life. And it all started with a hug.

In a blink, Jack launched himself at Phil and clung like a limpet. The Joy was so thick in the air, he could feel it on his tongue like a fine chocolate. It quickly spread, like things are wont to do, to the other yeti. The beasts surrounded the hugging duo, to the point that Aster nearly missed what happened next.

Putting the boy down, Phil carefully unrolled the scroll and... tied it around Jack's waist? Amid the cheers of the entire yeti village.

Frustrated and wanting to know what was going on, Aster dared to venture closer. All he could tell from the crush of bodies was that the scroll wasn't so much parchment as a fabric of some sort. In fact, it looked vaguely like the apron that Jack's toy yeti wore. Though the ribbons were long enough that they wrapped around Jack's thin waist one, two, nearly three times, complete with a large bow in the back. And the apron itself fell to Jack's knees, wrapping a good portion around his hips. Overall, it looked like a ridiculous skirt.

“...Thanks anyway, but I promised North I would have breakfast with him and the others before I leave.”

“Strewth.” Aster muttered, diving behind a snow back just as Jack turned toward his direction.

“Yeah.” Jack Laughed, “I know, I'll be careful. I was planning on sticking to the fruit anyway.” Hearing Jack come closer, Aster huddled further behind the drift, wishing that the ice was thinner so he could simply disappear down one of his tunnels.

With a laugh and a wave, Jack launched a good handful of meters up the hill in a simple stride. It wasn't true flight, but Jack was heading in the right direction for not needing his staff.

In the next moment, Aster was plucked from the snow by the scruff. Twisting just enough to see his captor, Aster gave a very Jack-like look. “'Ello, Mate. Mind putting me down?” The yeti, Phil, he realized, rolled his eyes and did what Bunny asked, brushing snow from the smaller spirit's fur.

Phil crossed his arms and gave Aster a parent's look, to which Aster scoffed, though his ears fell back. “Ah was curious. Frostbite was actin' strange and I had ev'ry right ta be concerned.”

After a moment, Phil nodded and growled something out, pointing back to the main workshop. “Grrl, Bn'ni.” Phil attempted English, to which Bunny gave a blank look. “Cod'd,” Phil pointed to the workshop again.

Looking between Phil's fat finger and the warm, inviting workshop, Aster cringed. “Yeah, I'll just... go now.” Aster muttered, watching Jack disappear into the side door. Nodding, Phil gave Aster a small push, nearly sending the pooka head-first into the snow bank.

Without the need to be stealthy, Aster took the short way to the main doors and bolted to the nearest fireplace. Hopefully he would be thawed by the time they met up for breakfast.

* * *

“Bunny!” North called, waving the pooka over to the large breakfast spread. “You are late! Comfortable beds, are they not?” North waggled a brow, to which Aster snorted.

“For you, maybe. I had to wake up early to work the kinks out'a my back. Sleep on something like that too often and I'll get fat and lazy.”

“Bah, you all need more meat on your bones. Especially you, Jack. You're too skinny!”

Jack stuck out his tongue, absently licking a drop of orange juice from his wrist, In the few minutes since he had seen the boy last, Jack had managed to get dressed in the blue waistcoat and pristine white shirt he had worn for the Christmas party. The blue tailcoat was tossed carelessly over the high back of his chair and his staff was still nowhere to be seen.

“Either way,” North clapped, not getting an actual response from the boys, and gestured to an empty chair. “Come, eat. Do not be shy! Toothie and Sandy should be here any minute.”

“Yeah, about that,” Jack finished his orange and stood up, slinging his tailcoat on and fished... something out of his pocket. “Tell them sorry that I couldn't stick around, but I promised Jamie I'd visit. That,” with a peculiar twist of his wrist, Jack was suddenly holding his staff, “And the last of my sheep clouds popped a few minutes ago. I have to check on that system first.”

“What happened to that infamous 'snowballs and fun-times' of yours? Sounds like work to me.” Aster couldn't help but to poke, earning a smirk in response.

“I don't know about you, Mr. Hard Work and Deadlines, but what's the point of all the work if its not fun? Can't have snowballs without a proper storm first! Besides, Mother'll have my head if I don't deal with that storm soon.”

“Mother?”

“Yeah,” Jack shrugged, half turning away, “Mother.” And with that, he was off through an opened window and tossed on the breeze like an errant ribbon.

Not five minutes later, Tooth flew in the same window. Looking around, she gave a small frown, “Jack?”

“Gone.” North gave a helpless look. “Said he had work.”

“Oh.” Tooth nodded, still upset, to which Bunny scoffed. “He couldn't wait? I was hoping we could have breakfast together.” She understood, especially after some of the stories that Baby Tooth had told her, but that didn't make it better. She was hoping that Jack would stay the entire time, but that he had stayed as long as he had was its own gift.

“Hey, North?” Aster spoke up as soon as the last yeti had finished setting out breakfast plates and left the room. “What's with Jack and the yeti? He was out back, talkin' to them this morning.” With the expression that crossed North's face, Aster's ears wilted slightly. “Yah... have no clue what I'm talking 'bout, do ya?”

North shook his head. “I will talk to Phil about it later. I found out recently that he was, ah, the one who... _dealt_ with Jack the most in the past. Pre-guardian days.” The trio shared a grimace.

“Best not to, North. Best leave it lie if you don't know already.”

Waving a hand, North absently agreed with Aster. For now. He had been meaning to talk to the yeti Jack had apparently dubbed Phil. He, along with a number of other yeti were oddly... protective when it came to the young spirit.

“That's strange, what would the yeti want with Jack?”

“More like the other way around, Tooth.” Aster tried to explain, “Y'know that yeti stuffie that Jack got yesterday, with the white fur and that apron?” Aster waited until he got a confirmation from the younger two. “'Parently they gave him a yeti-sized apron as well.”

“That was nice of them,” Tooth exclaimed politely, “but wouldn't that be a bit big for him? What do you think North? _North_?”

The Russian had frozen, fork half way to his mouth. It would be more than a small talk with the yeti, if he had any say in this. Losing his appetite, North dropped his fork and pushed his mostly-full plate away with mutterings to excuse himself.

Within two steps, Tooth flew over and touched North's elbow, “Was it something I said?”

“Yeah, talk to us, mate. What's got your knickers in a bunch all of a sudden?”

“Bunny, I do not wear knickers. нет,” North sighed, “Is Jack. And yeti.” North grasped his hands, searching for the correct word. “They are close.”

“But I thought they were just keeping an eye one him.”

“To keep him out of trouble,” Aster nodded at Tooth in agreement.

“нет,” North dismissed with a wave, “Jack has free passage, the same as you and Sandy.” He motioned to both guardians in the room. “Even has own room. Why would I tell yeti to watch Jack?”

Unnoticed by the others, Sandy had slipped into the room and tucked into his own meal. Being made of stardust, he didn't need to eat, but how was he to say no to North's pastries? Trying to follow along with the conversation, little question marks peppered the air over his head, along with the odd snowflake or two. _Jack? Was he in trouble? Sick? Was that why he wasn't at breakfast?_ He wasn't asleep at least. He would have sensed that and made sure to send the boy good dreams. At the very least, he was conscious, so that was a good thing.

Fed up with being ignored and concerned over Jack's welfare, Sandy remembered Jack's present from the previous night and pulled the stopper.

In he middle of the more verbal guardians' heated conversation, an insistent bell started to ring until their eyes fell onto the shortest guardian. “Sandy, when did you get in?” North asked, which was promptly ignored for Sandy to ask his own question. It only consisted of two symbols: a snowflake and a band-aid. “нет, No.” North waved off. It was a common enough question that no further clarification was needed. “Jack was speaking with yeti this morning. We think it is because of gifts.”

“Apparently one of them gave Jack and apron, but I really don't...” Sandy cut off Aster, practically glowing with his wide grin. A flurry of symbols popped up and burst like fireworks over his head, including Jack's snowflake, a house, dolphin, drum toy, three humanoids, a collection of small ball-like objects, a knife, yeti, and an entire burst of confetti squiggles. It culminated in Jack's snowflake floating over his head with a happy face over one hand and a sad face over the other.

“Er, yeah.” From Bunny's expression, he hadn't caught everything Sandy had said, “Whatever it was, Jackie seemed happy about it.”

That seemed to make Sandy happy, because next they knew, the sleepy man was bright-eyed and dancing around like one of the elves, a party hat balanced on his hair and a sand-made noisemaker between his lips.

“Sandy, mate, mind explaining to the rest of the class?” To which Sandy nodded eagerly. Carefully, Sandy formed Jack's visage, then two yeti, one of which had their hand on Jack's shoulder. Last, a simple roof over the three beings' heads.

“Yeti are adopting Jack.” North spoke soberly, a dark, almost mournful, look in his eyes.

“That's wonderful, Jack loves Phil.” Tooth chirped before catching North's pained expression. “North...? You wanted to adopt Jack first.” It was a statement more than a question as Tooth sunk to the floor. “I'm so sorry.”

Taking a deep breath, North shook his head. “Boy will be happy with yeti.”

Sandy heartily agreed, pages in a calendar flipping backwards. _It was a long time coming._ The few times he had been able to talk to Jack in his pre-guardian days, the boy had seemed brighter when he mentioned the Pole. Sandy had assumed that Jack had been taken in by North and Jack had never bothered to correct him. But that had been quickly changed as soon as he had seen how the two had interacted. A firm hand was not how to comfort such a flighty spirit as Jack was, without the risk of said spirit flying off and disappearing.

Granted, their interactions had improved with efforts on both their parts, but he could see the fine tension lines that still circled Jack's eyes when the others got too loud. He covered it well, matching the others' presences with action, but only for so long without a distraction of some sort. North, on his part, made a conscious effort to restrain his gregarious behavior, with limited success. North was a very tactile man, using hugs and touches to connect with those around him. Jack was... Not. He would accept hugs only after getting over the shock of being touched, then dance out of touching range for the next few minutes. 300 years of touch-abuse and starvation took time to scar over. That Jack allowed even these small touches was a minor miracle in itself.

The yeti in general, on the other hand were more illustrative with their affections. Quiet gestures and small gifts. Allowing Jack to initiate contact, and only on his terms. Overall, the yeti really were better for Jack. Maybe, eventually, North would be accepted into Jack's inner circle, but until then North and Jack had plenty to learn about each other.

With sympathetic eyes, Sandy patted North's knee, throwing up a simple clock. _Give it time._

Aster nodded in agreement. “Patience, Mate.” Sandy shrugged _close enough_ , “At least Jackie'll be close by if something happens.”

“Or in Himalayas.” North muttered petulantly.

“The point is, North, is that Jack won't be alone anymore.” North opened his mouth to protest, but Tooth cut him off. “And if he does go to the Himalayan tribe, I'll personally show him how to get into Punjam Hy Loo. It'll be closer than coming up here in an emergency, anyway.” And as far as she was concerned, that was the end of that conversation. They should be happy for Jack. Ultimately, it was none of their business what Jack did in his life. “Now sit down and let's finish this wonderful breakfast that the yeti didn't have to prepare for us, but did anyway. It is their vacation as well.”

The Queen had spoken. Nodding mulishly, North sat back down eying the spot set specifically for Jack. All that remained of the boy were a few crumbs of toast and the remains of an orange. Odd, considering that the orange had been the only piece of fresh fruit set out. Mostly the guardians' Boxer Day feast consisted of rich pastries and filling breakfast foodstuffs that even Tooth allowed herself to indulge in once a year. (Which promptly was followed by the Guardians' annual dental check-up.) Thinking about it, he realized that he had never actually seen Jack eat anything of any significance, let alone anything shared among the others. No wonder the boy was almost unnaturally thin. Pursing his lips, North silently vowed to get Jack to eat at least a healthy amount of food. Even if he never did gain weight to a healthy level, the boy didn't need to starve in their presence.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this got a little description-heavy. 
> 
> And... I'm off on my first actual multi-chapter story for ROTG! Also, I am slowly naming all of the yeti. If you have any name suggestions, please, don't be afraid to drop a suggestion! 
> 
> As always, if you want to talk, stalk me, or ask questions, you can always find me on tumblr at darkinufan.tumblr.com


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